


when I hit the ground

by daykid



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Small Town, Dialogue Heavy, Joshua and Vernon BFFs, M/M, Moving Out, Pining, Sad and Happy, Slow Burn, Summer After Senior Year, Talks about Masculinity, Vernon-centric, soft small town love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:07:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28605714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daykid/pseuds/daykid
Summary: Vernon snorts, “I dunno. It just feels like I’ve ruined the lives of everyone I’ve ever loved.”“Lame,” Seungkwan replies. “I can show you how to be a real villain.”
Relationships: Boo Seungkwan/Chwe Hansol | Vernon
Comments: 7
Kudos: 58





	when I hit the ground

**Author's Note:**

> whole fic inspired by this one scene from Pixie (2020) with Ben Hardy and Olivia Cooke, it's a cool, fun and arty movie so give it a watch if you want!
> 
> title from florence and the machine's "falling", another song influence on this fic is seasons (waiting on you) by slowclub
> 
> cw for alcohol (of age by canadian standards), talking about scars (not sh), implied internalized homophobia, plz let me know if there's anything else!

Vernon is wondering how he got here.

Maybe someone drove him, or he walked, or maybe this is his apartment and he just can’t recognize it through a blur of busybodies and smoke. Either way, he has a drink in his hand and it doesn’t feel like the world is ending, which is really enough to keep him content.

It’s approaching the end of summer and it feels like everyone is trying to get their last days of youth in before moving away for good. Vernon’s town is claustrophobically small. Any dream bigger than a fisherman or the local Shopper’s clerk is stifled by it. It makes sense that people want to leave; nobody in their right mind would spend the best years of their life in a place where there hardly is any.

Vernon doesn’t think he’s crazy, not in the slightest. He has his own reasons for staying behind while everyone he’s ever known slips away. There’s a lot of post-high school options for him but none of them speak to that insatiable part of his soul that wants a little more out of life, and he’d rather not make half-assed decisions.

If anybody is weird in his town, it’s Boo Seungkwan. He moved into town over the summer and had been plaguing Vernon’s psyche ever since. He always gets a weird feeling around him, something adjacent to nervousness. It’s extraordinary. The only way he can explain it is “embarrassed.” It’s humiliating to be under Seungkwan’s gaze, one that looks like he knows all too much without knowing anything at all.

They’re not close, and Vernon’s never been around Seungkwan long enough to know if they get along or not. There’s just a line that he doesn’t want to cross with him. He stands at the border of morbid curiosity and there’s a lot of ways that could go wrong.

“I swear he keeps giving you the eyes,” Vernon’s friend, Joshua, says. There’s a hint of hostility in it, a hint of seriousness. It’s wrong for boys to look at other boys like that.

“I’m surprised you can even stand straight, let alone make keen observations.”

Joshua laughs, “I haven’t had much. And I’ve gotta look after my friends, right?”

“Obviously,” Vernon replies.

“I’ve asked around,” Joshua continues. “My mum’s choir friends say his mother’s always muttering nonsense. The whole family must be crazy.”

Vernon doesn’t like talking about Seungkwan. He just hums, “I guess.”

“Someone told me he’s trying to apply for OCAD. Photography department. His shoots have more or less taken an experimental turn. Weird, freaky shit. You get what I’m saying?”

“I don’t really care,” Vernon says.

“Just giving you a heads up. Don’t talk to him. Might end up getting your naked ass photographed and sent off to some admissions officer to grade.”

Joshua is blunt but he’s honest. Vernon knows he’s just looking out for him. That’s why he doesn’t mind this conversation. He doesn’t mind getting dragged out to parties for the sake of “celebrating his last summer of freedom.” He pretends he doesn’t mind talking about school, Seungkwan, his future. One day it’s all going to be behind him, and there won’t be any more time to talk.

Until then, he’ll keep listening. Let the music drown out a dull ache in his chest that tells him he’s missing something.

Vernon knows where Seungkwan lives. It’s on the way home from Joshua’s place. He remembers the first time passing by, tall boxes standing in the driveway at a stupid hour of the night.

He remembers Seungkwan’s hair back then. Bright. Red like fire. It’s only been a few weeks but Seungkwan’s had more hair colours then their local paint store offered. And none of them muted like the tones that grace Vernon’s bedroom walls. Instead, it’s colours that are hard to wipe from the back of his eyes when he closes them.

Vernon parks his car on the street, walks up to Seungkwan’s door, wonders what he’s doing here. Morbid curiosity, maybe. He never knows what he wants.

He knocks on the door.

A head of blond hair greets him. The rainbow streaks Vernon remembers seeing at the party have been washed out.

“Hey Seungkwan.”

He tries his most polite smile.

“Chwe,” Seungkwan smiles back.

“You remember my name?”

“Well, there’s not a lot of names to remember around here,” the blond says. “What are you doing at my house?”

Vernon stumbles. “Oh, uh. Well. Someone told me you’re into cams— into photography. And. I was just wondering if you knew any places around here where I could get a good camera?”

“You’re here because you need to find a camera store… at two in the morning,” Seungkwan deadpans. “Nice try. Tell your friend to mind their own business. What I do is personal to me, and I don’t need someone like you to worry about it.”

Maybe he should’ve thought this out more.

Vernon sighs, “Look. I’m sorry. Can I come in?”

He says it softly, with a more genuine smile. Seungkwan pokes his tongue into his cheek, staring Vernon down, pensive.

“I don’t see why not.”

With that, they both walk inside the house. Vernon slides out of his shoes as Seungkwan switches the lights on. His home is plainly decorated, unlike the vibe that its inhabitants give off. Vernon expected more vibrancy, pets maybe, life.

“What did you mean by ‘someone like me’?” he asks, nothing better to talk about coming to mind.

It’s the most interesting thing, the perceptions of himself that can exist in other people’s minds. Vernon’s finding his own idea of Seungkwan to be more muddled every second.

“You small town jocks are all the same,” Seungkwan replies with a scoff as they enter the kitchen. “Coffee?”

“No, thank you.”

“If I had to guess, you probably play soccer right? Or basketball?” Seungkwan asks. He fiddles with his coffee machine, scooping some ground beans into a filter.

“Your first guess was right.”

“Figured,” he confirms as the coffee machine starts to sputter hot water. “A bit on the bulkier end to be playing basketball. Are you on varsity?”

“Is it disappointing if I’m not?”

“No, actually,” Seungkwan replies, “it’s typical. I’ll take a guess again. Gifted kid burnout? Vernon Chwe, master soccer player, amazing midfielder who was going to go to the big cities on a scholarship. Little stumble on the way, maybe an injury— or a bad case of big fish in a little pond. Now you’re spending your days working as the corner store clerk and getting high at parties. Am I off?”

“Way off. Maybe you watch too many coming of age movies,” Vernon says. “No injuries, no bad breaks. Scholarships lined up for me bigger than you can ever imagine.”

“So what’s your deal? Are you just spiting your parents?”

Vernon can’t pinpoint why he feels the need to be honest, but he does anyway. He doesn’t even know why they’re having this conversation.

“I never wanted to be an athlete. I’m just taking it slow for now, seeing how things go.”

Seungkwan looks stunned for a moment, long enough for it to mean something. He covers it up with a laugh, a sharp, loud one, “now that’s rich. How ungrateful.”

Vernon is quick to defend himself, “I just know what I want.”

The blond hums as his coffee machine beeps. He pours some out from the pot into a silly mug that says “No. 1 Best Husband”, looking just slightly amused.

“What do you want from me then? Why are you here?” he wonders aloud.

“What do you think, since you’re so good at guessing.”

“Most guys like you come here to call me names and maybe egg my mom’s car, but you haven’t done that yet.”

“You say ‘yet’ like I will eventually.”

“Never say never, Chwe,” Seungkwan says with a smile. “You asked for some photography tips, so you’ll get some. Come up to my room.”

“If you insist.”

“You’re good at obeying orders. I like that.”

Vernon is wondering how he got here.

Maybe he’s making a huge mistake. Seungkwan is sitting in front of him and their knees are touching and it’s entirely too uncomfortable. Worse, there’s various kinds of makeup surrounding them on the bed like a minefield.

“Do I have to wear this stuff? Seriously?” Vernon frowns.

“Is it really such a big deal?” Seungkwan asks.

“Yes,” Vernon replies too quickly. “It’s just. It’s not really normal, here. This town isn’t progressive.”

“I don’t care about the town,” Seungkwan says. “What other people think shouldn’t matter.”

“It does. Everything matters.”

Vernon remembers he told his teacher that he didn’t like peanut butter once when he was eight. To this day, whenever there’s a school event he’s put on the allergy list. It’s another one of those small things that don’t matter but stick.

“And what about you? What do you think?”

“I’ve always been taught that it’s weird.”

Seungkwan stares up at him through long, dark eyelashes.

“Forget what you’ve been taught, Chwe,” he says after a while.

He tries. He tries but it’s hard to feel Seungkwan’s touch on his cheeks and think it’s normal. Nothing about Seungkwan made him feel normal.

“I’ll let you know when the pics are developed.”

Seungkwan, for one, is actually really great at taking photos. Vernon makes note of the pictures that grace his bedroom walls. They’re of family, of friends. Some of them are just scenery. There’s a few on the dresser of Seungkwan himself.

Vernon tries not to look at them for too long, worried he’s stumbled upon something way too personal for his eyes.

Seungkwan in different makeup looks. Seungkwan in bed. Him in dresses and skirts and other things Vernon’s never seen on other boys.

“Looking at something interesting?” Seungkwan hums, setting his camera down. He follows Vernon’s gaze, trailing it back to the polaroids.

He leans over the edge of the mattress to grab some. Seungkwan shuffles through them, letting out a few discontent hums or noises of approval once in a while. Vernon figures he’s probably picking out which ones are nice enough to show, which would matter if he cared. He thinks they all look nice.

“This one’s pretty right?” Seungkwan asks as he holds one up. He has dark blue hair, fresh from a shower, and is wearing a long bathrobe.

Vernon feels his stomach fall with guilt. Guilt because his first thought was that boy’s can’t be pretty. That’s not a word he’s learned to assign to himself or anyone else. Girls are supposed to be pretty, pretty and colourful, pretty and delicate, pretty and soft.

Seungkwan is all of these things too. His hair and wardrobe pretty much five shades away from being a comprehensive paint sampler. His hands are delicate and thin when they apply blush to Vernon’s cheeks. His face is incredibly soft, not like the boys from their town who are all angular and hardened by time.

It’s simple math, really. If all of this is true about Seungkwan, then he’s pretty too.

The words just can’t come out of Vernon’s mouth.

“Yeah,” he says. It’s lame, doesn’t do how he feels much justice. Hopefully Seungkwan doesn’t mind that.

“I know right,” Seungkwan says, smiling.

They look at a few more, Seungkwan pausing every time to ask what Vernon thinks about it. Every time, he falls short of what he really wants to say. Every time, Seungkwan gives him another chance.

It goes on like that for a while. Then Seungkwan runs out of photos and they don’t have anything else to say, not at their level of friendship (which is, barely that) so Vernon says he has to go home.

At the door, Vernon catches sight of a clock. It’s almost four in the morning.

“Thanks for having me,” he says, slipping on his shoes.

Seungkwan nods, “my pleasure. Come over anytime.”

“I don’t have your number,” Vernon realizes. He pulls out his phone.

“Don’t bother. Mine’s been broken for a while and I’m too lazy to fix it. Just knock on my door, I’m usually home.”

“Alright,” Vernon hums. He ties up his shoes, a pair of battered converse. He stands in the doorway, “I’ll be going now.”

“Wait,” Seungkwan says, stepping in Vernon’s space.

A thumb runs his thumb across his lips. Delicate. Soft.

“Forgot to remove some lipstick there,” Seungkwan whispers. With those words, his hand leaves. “I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah,” Vernon replies, “I’ll see you around.”

After that night, a dam seems to have opened in Vernon’s mind. Before, he couldn’t even imagine calling other boys pretty, and now it’s all he can think about. Well, not all boys. Just Seungkwan.

The first time it happens, they’re at the local pool and Vernon’s trying his best not to smile.

Seungkwan looks scared as hell from his angle of the fifteen meter diveboard. Vernon’s sitting at the edge of the pool, letting his feet hang in the water. With the sun shining down on Seungkwan’s freshly dyed orange hair, he looks like a firebolt.

“Chwe! Chwe fuck you!” Seungkwan yells, even though there’s kids around. Vernon tries not to shrink away, searching for some kind of inner strength. He worries that people will talk, and then everyone will know he’s good friends with the weird kid. “Here I go!”

There’s a big splash, thankfully one that doesn’t sound like Seungkwan is going to come out of the water with beet red skin. Then a head of damp orange hair springs from the deep end.

Seungkwan swims over to Vernon, throwing his head back when he reaches the ledge.

“How was it?” he asks, smiling wide.

“Beautiful,” Vernon beams back. “Are you sure I didn’t see you in the Olympics?”

Somehow, Seungkwan’s grin cracks wider. Nobody should be able to smile like that, Vernon thinks. He wants to frame a photo of it and never look at it ever again.

 _Pretty,_ Vernon finally admits. Seungkwan is really, _really_ pretty.

And he doesn’t stop thinking about it.

Joshua and Vernon are running laps on the field. It’s not for any particular reason other than there isn’t much else to do.

There’s no more parties, not enough people around anymore to hold them, so the duo have taken to doing what they normally do, before everything changed. Before highschool, it’d always just been Joshua and Vernon; it was “Where’s Josh?” when he would show up to events alone, it was “Shua hasn’t come over in a while, are you guys fighting?” and “why don’t you invite your friend to dinner?”

Back then, Vernon was afraid of losing his best friend. Now, he’s worried that he cares too little. If Joshua wants to leave, he should. What kind of person would Vernon be if he served as a living reminder of everything his friend left behind.

There’s an uncomfortable feeling lying under his skin, one that tells him he doesn’t appreciate what he has. And it sounds a lot like Seungkwan.

They’re six laps in when Joshua brings him up.

“My friend said he saw you going over to that guy’s house.”

“Oh,” Vernon replies. “It was just one time.”

He doesn’t know why he feels the need to lie, the words just roll out of him.

“Not a big deal. I was just making conversation. If you’re hanging out with him, it’s cool. I just mean that we just don’t hang out as much, and you know I’m moving soon.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Joshua feels all too real in the daylight. Without strobe lights and smoke, he looks like someone Vernon could actually lose.

“We should chill more,” his friend continues. “I’ll miss you.”

Three words can so easily change a person’s life.

“Yeah, we should,” he says. He doesn’t mean it.

Joshua tells him he’ll text him and Vernon promises he’ll reply. Whether it’s on purpose or not, there’s a distance growing between them. Preparing them. He thinks that’s for the best.

“I’ll try to call you a lot.”

It should be easier to want permanence.

Vernon learns over time that Seungkwan is a Capricorn and he’s an Aquarius. Which is to say Seungkwan is earth and Vernon is the sea. It’s another one of those little facts that file away in the back of Vernon’s mind, completely useless but still extremely special.

Seungkwan’s bathroom is unnecessarily small and crowded with towels. When he first proposed the idea of having Vernon dye his hair for him, the younger wasn’t necessarily cautious about it, worried maybe, but not cautious.

It’s about twenty minutes in when Vernon realizes that Seungkwan doesn’t care about caution, he just likes having fun.

“Oh my god, dude,” Vernon laughs after slapping a dollop of purple dye onto Seungkwan’s head, “you totally have a bald spot.”

“Are you fucking with me,” Seungkwan cries. He whips around so quickly that a bunch of dye splatters, just missing Vernon’s face.

“I have never been more serious.”

Seungkwan sighs, “God fucking dammit.”

“Bald wouldn't be such a bad look on you,” the younger jokes, “I’m trying a new look too. You see my shirt was custom painted,” Vernon continues sarcastically, showing off the purple spots starting to stain on his clothes.

“Ugh, take that off. I’ll wash it. Hair is easily fixable, my mom has plenty of wigs. You, however, are a fashion mess.”

Vernon pushes Seungkwan on the chest, “are you gonna wash my shirt or burn it?”

“We’ll see.”

Seungkwan watches Vernon with a close eye. He doesn’t have a shirt on either, just a towel wrapped around his neck. Vernon really doesn’t know why he feels so embarrassed now, they’ve been to the local pool like a hundred times. Seungkwan’s seen him in just his swimming shorts, nothing weird.

Maybe it’s the intimacy of it just being them alone in the house with nobody watching. His body wants to do something practically sinister, indicative by the way his stomach swoops at Seungkwan’s trained gaze, but Vernon shuts off that part of his brain.

He shuffles out of his shirt, throwing it at Seungkwan’s head.

“God, this fucking stinks Chwe. You’re such a boy.”

“If you shower too much it dries out your skin. Maybe that’s why you’re balding.”

They’re just being playful. Seungkwan scolds Vernon for treating an elder this way. Vernon dodges Seungkwan’s pinches. It escalates and suddenly the atmosphere isn’t so playful anymore.

Vernon’s holding Seungkwan’s wrists out to the sides when he notices something.

“Dude, that’s some sick scar you got there.”

On the skin previously hidden by Seungkwan’s towel, four dark spots are right above his collarbone. It’s so obvious that Vernon wonders how he’s never noticed it before.

“Hmm?” Seungkwan drops his head to his chest, as if he’s trying to see it for himself, “oh, yeah. A sexy vampire bit me.”

Vernon rolls his eyes, “then why’s there four marks?”

“He bit me twice,” Seungkwan says seriously.

“The vampire was a he?”

“Have you ever seen Twilight, Chwe? Be honest.”

“No,” Vernon replies with a laugh, “what’s the scar actually from? Be honest.”

Seungkwan sighs, leaning dramatically on the sink, “Promise you won’t think of me differently,” he says with all the feigned despair he can muster.

Vernon leans into his space, “yeah, man.”

“Okay, man. I’ll have you know, I was a victim… of a stabbing. A fork stabbing. I was in the ICU for weeks.”

“That’s impossible—”

“Tetanus is a real threat to society!” Seungkwan exclaims.

As they bicker, the evil feeling evolving from Vernon’s previous “embarrassment” around Seungkwan is forgotten. He feels light, not from butterflies making a mess of his stomach, but just because Seungkwan has enough helium gas exuberance for the both of them.

Vernon shows Seungkwan his ACL surgery scar he got from soccer. Seungkwan tells him he has “a better one” and shows off the stretch marks on his inner thigh. “Not a scar,” Vernon says, “that’s just nature,” to which Seungkwan replies “oh I’ll show you a scar.”

It’s how Vernon figures out Seungkwan moved into town because of a car crash. Before, he would’ve torn that piece of information apart and tried to dig deeper into Seungkwan, would’ve wanted to know more. Lately, he’s becoming increasingly okay with the opposite. If Seungkwan wants to tell him more, he would.

All Vernon can think about right now is how extraordinary Seungkwan looks under the pale light of his shitty, tiny bathroom.

He’s growing in a lot of ways, it seems.

Vernon drives Joshua to the bus station. It’s a bit far out of town, about two hours away from his neighborhood, and takes people to the airport and nearby cities. Joshua’s parents said they couldn’t bear to let him go if they were the ones taking him, so the task naturally fell onto Vernon.

He owns a pick-up truck much like everyone else in his town. It’s a standard black colour, tires a bit sandy from his and Seungkwan’s trips to nearby lakes, and it’s running out of gas.

“Is there a service station nearby?”

Vernon expects Joshua to be mad. They’re only twenty minutes into the drive and Vernon fucked up by forgetting to fill the tank before they left. What if he doesn’t get there on time and the bus leaves? He has every right to be mad.

“Yeah,” Joshua says, “just ten minutes away. Do we have enough to get there?”

Of course, Joshua doesn’t get frustrated with him, it’s never been his style. He just keeps humming whatever acoustic country song is playing over the radio, completely oblivious to what’s going on in Vernon’s mind.

“Mhm. Should be enough.”

To be completely honest, Vernon’s completely floored by the sheer amount of guilt in his heart. His first and best childhood friend was leaving and he couldn’t even find it in himself to feel truly, deeply upset abt it. What is wrong with him?

To be completely fucking honest, Vernon is ashamed.

It shows. Vernon’s been hanging out enough to Seungkwan that he’s begun picking up his mannerisms, like wearing his emotions plainly.

“Are you okay?” Joshua asks as he turns down the stereo.

Vernon shakes his head, “I don’t know. Sorry I forgot to fill up on gas. We can totally speed a little bit if you need to—”

“Vern, it’s cool. There’s still plenty of time to get there, a ten minute gas stop won’t do any harm.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it doesn’t matter,” Joshua says cooly, “and… you know you can be honest with me, right?”

“I know,” Vernon admits, “you’re my best friend.”

The words feel wrong in his mouth, as much as he wants it to feel right.

“Speaking of friends, I saw you at the movies with Seungkwan.”

Joshua says it so casually, Vernon doesn’t know what to think. It’s amazing how fast a perception of someone can change. Before, Joshua was warning Vernon against being friends with Seungkwan and now he seems neutral, almost content with their friendship.

“Yeah, we saw some local art film he really wanted to see.”

“It’s nice that you guys are friends.”

Someone to keep him company when he’s gone, Vernon figures.

“He’s nice. Pretty funny guy too. I feel like you guys would’ve been good friends. He likes singing.”

“I’ll always visit,” Joshua assures, “I don’t really sing that much but I still have my guitar. Maybe during Christmas we could form a band.”

“And sing carols?” Vernon replies lightheartedly, starting to feel familiar with his friend again.

Joshua snorts, “my mom would love that.”

They settle into a comfortable silence. The radio stays off. Vernon tries to reconcile a voice in his head that tells him he owes Joshua something. Anything.

The gas station is pretty much empty and Vernon finds that intimate privacy he once felt in Seungkwan’s bathroom. No one around to judge him, no one to talk. He stops the car in at the first gas pump.

“I’ll go inside and grab some snacks while you fill up,” Joshua says, “do you want anything?”

He forgets to reply.

“Vern?”

“Hmm?”

“Everything okay?”

“I think I’m into guys.”

The fuel gauge stares at Vernon, empty. Joshua is quiet.

“That’s cool,” his friend says softly, “I’m happy you can trust me with that.”

“And it doesn’t matter?”

“I mean, no. Unless you want it to? It can matter if you want.”

Vernon is so, so deeply ashamed.

“It’s alright if it doesn’t.”

He doesn't think he deserves this.

“Alright,” Joshua says with a smile, “you want Skittles?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, be back in a minute.”

Vernon’s head feels empty as he fills the gas tank. It stays that way until the moment he sees his friend board the bus to the airport, small hand waving behind a tinted window.

He wonders if it’s supposed to feel like this.

Another thing about Seungkwan is that he feels emotions to the extremes, it’s like he lives in a world of black and white. Seungkwan likes to cry at the commercials of movies and fall in love a little bit with everyone he meets. It’s a change of pace for Vernon, because as much as the best parts of Seungkwan are emphasized by his intensity, so are the not-so-great parts.

They argue, and they argue often. Seungkwan likes to assume he knows everything about Vernon and Vernon likes to prove him wrong. They make such a volatile pair.

It’s always about something dumb, like Vernon forgetting that they’re supposed to go out and arriving late, or Seungkwan making another absurd guess about Vernon’s life like how he did on the first night they met.

If Vernon learns softness from Seungkwan, the latter learns sharpness.

There’s a knife under Vernon’s rib cage that lodges there when Seungkwan asks him if he’s happy. The pain is imagined but there’s something hidden in it, something real. Beneath all of the traded blows and restless spiralling, there’s a sensation that feels a lot like being alive.

Seungkwan’s doing Vernon’s makeup again on a Tuesday afternoon.

“Have you ever kissed a boy?”

“Once. Some stupid middle school prank.”

“Did it become a part of you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said everything matters. Did it matter enough to change some part of you, I mean.”

“Not really,” Vernon admits, “I haven’t thought about it until you asked.”

“Player,” Seungkwan teases, “I just debunked your whole schtick. ‘Everything matters’ my ass. You can just do shit and it’s not a huge deal. You’re still you.”

“What if I don’t want to be?”

“Be yourself? Why not?”

“I don’t know,” Vernon sighs, “not a lot to be proud about here. No goals or plans.”

Seungkwan stares at him for a long time.

“Things you haven’t done yet don’t define you.”

And there’s that feeling again, bubbling under Vernon’s ribs. A dull but jarring sensation that tells him Seungkwan means it. Like, really means it.

“Now do me a favour and close your eyes.”

 _Good at following orders,_ Vernon recalls. “Alright.”

It’s like that same night. Looking back, if Vernon was just a little more head over heels for Seungkwan back then as he is now, he might’ve anticipated that he was going to kiss him. He anticipates it now, with all Seungkwan’s talk and previous lingering gazes.

Vernon’s first thought is that he’s wrong for wanting it. His second thought is that he doesn’t care.

Then, he feels a brush on his eyelid. Not the brush of lips, but of an eyeshadow wand. He suppresses a full-body shudder.

“Warm tones bring out your eyes,” Seungkwan says, not knowing what’s going on in Vernon’s mind at all. “It also looks really natural.You could wear this outside on any normal day.”

“I don’t think I could ever do that.”

“Why not?”

“I’m just not like you,” Vernon sighs, “I don’t have your courage.”

“It has nothing to do with courage.”

Seungkwan pauses his hand, rests it on Vernon’s cheek. “It has everything to do with fear. What’s up with you today? You’re more self-deprecating than usual.”

Vernon snorts, “I dunno. It just feels like I’ve ruined the lives of everyone I’ve ever loved.”

“Lame,” Seungkwan replies. “I can show you how to be a real villain.”

“And how do you do that?” Vernon says with a laugh. His mom has been telling him that he looks a lot happier lately. He feels the same way.

“Knowing what you want, not stopping at anything to get it. Typical evil, selfish things.”

“That doesn’t sound evil at all.”

“I know,” Seungkwan says. “I know. But I still feel bad about it sometimes. I don’t think makeup or wearing girly shit is a statement. I don’t want to care about it that way. It’s just clothes. It’s just makeup. But maybe I should care.”

“I don’t think it’s bad if you don’t. And it’s definitely not evil,” Vernon says. He finds it a bit silly, how he’s the one saying these things when it should be the other way around.

“Do you remember the first time you came over to my house?”

Vernon nods, eyes closed.

“You said you’re still here ‘cause you knew what you wanted. But—”

“There’s always a ‘but’—”

“But I think you’re lying.”

Vernon props himself up on one arm, staring intently at Seungkwan.

“How?”

“I’ve been told I’m pretty bad at guessing,” Seungkwan jokes softly, “so you should tell me. I mean, if you want to.”

Despite always living in a thin layer of fear about how others perceive him, Vernon’s always found people explaining him to himself interesting. So, how strange it is to have to do it all on his own. What does he want? What’s stopping him? What little events lead up to that decision?

Vernon lies there, thinking. Thinking about how he’s too young to be afraid of getting old. About how he feels like he’s outgrown his own life. He thinks about himself in ways that don’t include what other people think of him. Not his parents, his friends, or anybody in town. And Seungkwan lies beside him, and he waits, and he lets him think.

“Do you miss him?”

Joshua, Vernon’s brain supplies. Seungkwan is asking if he misses Joshua.

“Sometimes,” he replies. “I mean, of course. But that’s just life I guess. People come and go all the time and you just enjoy it while they’re there.”

Seungkwan feigns a gasp, “when did you get so sentimental?”

Vernon rolls his eyes. They’re sitting under the bleachers of Vernon’s old high school, eating sandwiches.

“I’m not being sentimental,” he says. “There’s no need.”

“And the other times?” Seungkwan asks after a pause.

“What other times?”

“You said you missed him sometimes. What are you thinking about the other times?”

The answer comes to Vernon so easily it’s terrifying.

“You, mostly,” he says. It’s so cliche.

Seungkwan smiles like how they do in the movies except for one thing, it’s not an act.

“Can I kiss you?”

Another easy answer.

“Please.”

Seungkwan gets into OCAD and plans to leave by the holidays. To get situated, find a new place to live, he says.

Eventually Vernon will figure out what he wants to do with his life. Maybe not now, but he finally has hope. He doesn't feel like he’s always wandering, never knowing where he is and why he’s there. He knows he isn’t where he wants to be.

That’s probably the first step.

Seungkwan doesn’t feel like a loss. Not yet. Vernon won’t plant flowers in his throat like a grave while he’s still here. He says what he means.

“I want what you have.”

And Seungkwan, who has a voice like tides, crashing onto the shores of Vernon’s brain with tectonic magnitude, always means what he says.

“I have you.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! this little fic helped me vent a lot since I'm graduating soon, so a lot of these conversations are ones I've actually had recently haha
> 
> sorry if any parts are wonky, I totally didn't get it beta-d
> 
> [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/bookkeu)


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